(In)Sanity
Have you ever loved someone so much that you just know it will work? That happened to me, except...it didn't work. When I first saw her, I predicted that we would be friends. And we were, although, I never knew that she actually had feelings for me. A couple of months passed, and something happened...I couldn't stop thinking about her. One of my close friends, I'll call him L, kept telling me things she was saying when I wasn't around. I was intrigued. And then, in love... The week of nervousness and anxiety kicked in, and I kept telling myself "Today, I'll ask" but I kept putting it off until Friday...well, not exactly putting it off, we had rehearsals every day for GCSE Drama, so we were both quite busy. On that Friday, I finally got round to asking her...she told me that she used to have feelings for me, but had moved on...she still wanted to be friends, really good friends, of course. Then...I broke...I thought about her in my every waking moment, and in my sleep. I'd sometimes even shed a tear over the lost opportunity, that still seemed wide open. Our love was broken. We loved at different times. Every day and night I tried to calm myself with music. Mostly the ones that cheered me up when my best friend hated me. But that was different. Every day, I'd get home from school, I would see her online on Facebook...but the demon tells me not to speak to her. My room would start to melt whenever I heard her name, or spoke of her with an even closer friend, whom I will refer to as G. My relatives of old would speak to me from Heaven, telling me to move on, and to be stronger. But how could I be strong, when I am talking to dead relatives? I had an appointment with the Master of Insanity in my nightmare, and he said that I was very far from sane. I still loved her. I wanted to be with her until death. But her and all the others are long gone, far from my reach. I sat in my bedroom. The day outside was grey, and there was a thick layer of dust everywhere. I hadn't been at school for a long time, and neither had they. I don't remember most of them. I don't remember how old I am, or the name of the village I live in. My name means nothing... I hadn't heard from G in about 3 years. The house...if you could still call it a house, was desolate. Except a table. A table, and a pill...not the others I was taking, which I ran out of over 2 years ago. One single cyanide pill. I took it. My heart stopped, my vision blurred for what seemed like forever... I woke in my bed. Everything was how it was before I asked. I went downstairs, and saw them. My grandparents. The ones I had wanted to meet the most. And...I couldn't believe my eyes...I saw...her. As beautiful as she was the day I asked. She told me that all of my friends died in some kind of car wreck. They were all there. L, G, everyone. Even my sister and parents. I realized at last... I was home. And free... Lights went out. The room around me was nothingness. Something was wrong. Only the bones remained of the ones I love. I love nobody. That girl means nothing to me now. All anyone would do to me was neglect me. Shout at me. Hurt me, sometimes. In every way. Until I just snapped. All I ever wanted was love. The rats scurrying around in the pools of mine and others blood were good company. Also made for a half decent meal, if I was really hungry. Then one day, it was all screaming, screaming, SCREAMING, SCREAMING! All of them were supposed to stay how I'd left them. Dead. But I quickly found out you could not kill what was already deceased, and when they came for me...banging on the door, a cacophony of moans and shouts, and cries of anguish. Enough! I tried everything to get away. Cyanide. Slitting my wrists, hanging myself. I had tried in every way to kill myself, but all I could feel was immense pain of the death, only to wake up where I started. Alive. So sadly, alive. Nothing can live without a brain. Not even me. I picked up my old rusty knife, and stabbed it into my right eye, and dug deep, until a huge gaping hole was on one side. It was as if I was watching myself do it. I could see my hand reaching up to the hole in my face, I could see my overgrown fingernails clawing away at tissue. Until at last, I reached my brain. My fucked up mind. There was not brain. With my remaining eye, I looked into a broken mirror. Fog. A pale blue fog filled my head. No wonder it was so easy to get through, I saw no skull... The pale blue fog seeped out of the hole in my face, and engulfed the room. I blacked out. When I awoke, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Except...the wound stayed. not the whole wound, but it was as if the chunk of my face I'd ripped out, was simply sewn back to my head. With full vision intact, I walked over to my broken mirror, to see that my face was better, apart from a line of stitches. I woke up the next day, covered in scars. Could have been anything, rats, clawing myself in my sleep, anything. I could feel something leaking from my eyes. Not tears. Not blood. But, the pale blue fog that was in my head. Coming out of my eyes, and settling in front of me. It formed some kind of puddle. Then, formed something I hadn't seen in a long time. A person. Whether I was hallucinating or not, I didn't care. It was someone else to kill. But I didn't want to kill it. I wanted it to help me. It stepped over to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. It spoke. All this started, because one person put you down. 'That's not true. It was everyone. All my "friends" left me. My family knew nothing about me. Acting happy was hard.' That was no reason to live like this. Your old house. You haven't changed clothes in god knows how long. You try to kill any living thing you see. I can stop that. 'Can you kill me?' Yes, but I won't do that. I can send you back, though. Before everything, and then you'll know not to do it. Let me do this? 'Do it.' I blacked out, and woke up in my home, my real home. I looked at the date...2013. The year I asked. My mother came in shouting at me to get up, or I'll be late for school. I arrived at school. I don't remember anything about it, or who my friends are. I do remember her. There was a crowd gathered in a circle, teachers trying to calm everyone. I tried to catch a glimpse of what it was and...it was her. Impaled on a javelin. I ran. I ran out to the field, ran to the caretakers shed and cried. The pale blue fog came towards me. I saved you. Why are you crying? 'She was...my friend. You killed her...' So very pathetic. I might as well do the same to you. But I won't. I'll let you live with this, knowing it's your fault. And, no...you still can't die...sweet dreams. And I was left alone. Crying. Crying. Crying... Category:Ghosts Category:Mental Illness